


Violet Hibiscus

by AndreaLyn



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:05:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In retrospect, Danny’s an idiot.</i> In which sleeping with Steve McGarrett turns Danny into an idiot, the team is curious, and Steve gets to put boy-scout sewing to good use.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Violet Hibiscus

In retrospect, Danny’s an idiot.

The light linen bandage is heavy against his skin and Waikiki is experiencing a heat wave unlike anything they’ve seen in months. The temperatures are soaring past 100F on a daily basis and Danny’s got a square patch of cloth covering up his shoulder blade in addition to his shirt. It’s like a cauldron, but the last thing he needs is to take it off. He's in a white shirt that's somewhat see-through and after keeping it secret for as long as he has, there is no way he's about to let Steve see it prematurely.

This all brings him back to the whole ‘Danny Williams is an idiot who makes stupid decisions’.

He should blame the idiocy from months of Steve McGarrett beside him in his bed. Every time they have sex, it’s like Steve is slipping in little thoughts and ideas until suddenly Danny is too tired and limbless from getting fucked through the mattress and all of Steve’s ideas start worming their way into his head and making _sense_. Four months into a relationship with Steve and there’s a bandage at his back that itches and he’s done something he swore he’d never do.

He manages to keep it under wraps for three days. The team is too busy to deal with the fact that Danny keeps twitching and rolling his shoulder blade in arching rotations. He keeps reaching back idly to swat and scratch at the skin and while it’s earned him a fair share of strange looks from the team, no one says anything.

Scratch that. Go back. Correct it:

No one says anything until the very _minute_ after they collar their suspect.

“Hey brah, you got something on your back?” Kono asks.

The perp isn’t even in the _car_ and they’ve already turned like sharks on chum to devour him whole. Steve instantly turns on his heel, as if the sheer act of someone questioning Danny means that he has to be involved.

And not just involved, but lasering in on Danny like he’s seconds away from scooping Danny off his feet and hauling him to seek help if he doesn’t start talking. Even Chin isn’t paying much attention to the booking that’s going on just five feet away. He’s in a new kind of hell and it’s just the right temperature for it.

“Okay, everyone! Keep your hats on!” Danny says wildly. “Kono, I have got an itch I cannot exactly scratch. Steven, I am not dying from said itch. Chin,” he says, at a loss. “I don’t even know, let’s just assume I have something witty to say here. Okay? Stand down, team.”

Kono and Chin, because they are sensible and kind people, listen to him.

He’s not so lucky when it comes to Steve.

“Are you okay? You’ve been acting like something’s been hurting you on your back for a couple days now, Danno,” Steve says. Danny would normally feel just fine with ignoring that look on Steve’s face, but it has been three days and that puppy-dog look in Steve’s eye is dangerous to everyone around.

Danny knows that if he delays this any longer, he’s going to subject Hawaii to a bored and frustrated Steven J. McGarrett and the last time he did that, there was an _incident_ at the aquarium involving some of the dolphins that Danny doesn’t want to repeat (and if he ever hears the word ‘water-based missile’ again, he will sink right back into that old set of nightmares). “Tonight. Okay? It’s not really the kind of thing I need to be showing the entire downtown population of Waikiki.”

Steve lets it go.

He brings it up _the minute_ they get inside the house, which has Danny wondering if there’s some kind of impatience virus running through the waters and if so, why he hasn’t been affected yet.

“Before you even start,” Danny warns as he lets Steve pull him closer by the lapels of his shirt, sliding his thumb down the starched collar before he begins to pop buttons loose one by one, “I want you to know that if you mock me for this for _even a second_ , there will be a special kind of hell to pay. Understood?”

Steve makes a tiny noise of consent, but that’s just not good enough for Danny. He forcibly grabs Steve by the wrist to stop him.

“Understood?” Danny emphasizes the word.

“I got it, Danno,” Steve says, soothingly. He pops loose the last button and slides his palms slowly up Danny’s shirt, causing a ripple effect from Steve’s fingertips and outwards from Danny’s hips to his shoulders. He pushes off the shirt and turns Danny forcibly by the shoulders, placing the small linen taped to his back in plain view.

Danny is an idiot. He’s an idiot who’s been with Steve too long and has succumbed to all the Steve-esque whining about how Hawaii isn’t his home and he’s an idiot who did something _permanent_ , even though he’s warned Grace that she’s never to even think about it.

“Danny,” Steve says, and his voice is bordering on murderous rampage, which is cute and all, but Danny doesn’t need avenging.

Danny rolls his eyes and reaches back to nudge loose the tape on the bandage, prying off the tape and wincing as it catches stray hairs here and there. “Steven, do not be an idiot. I’m not injured. Itch, itch, remember? No one has stabbed me, no one has shot me, and I haven’t even been attacked by a wayward coconut.”

Steve opens his mouth to make a comment, but one glare from Danny makes Steve shut it and think better.

Danny gives the cloth one last yank and folds it up in his hands as he rolls his shoulders forward, giving Steve a good and clear look. He hasn’t been shot, stabbed, or pierced to death by a swordfish. No, this is his own doing. This is a _tattoo_. This is permanent.

It’s also enough to make Steve suck in a breath and stare in reverence, his fingers mapping out the ink on Danny’s upper shoulder. It’s small because Danny is not Steve. He’s not the kind of guy who’s willingly about to mark every inch of his skin for _fun_. The touch tingles and sends a coil of heat through his body, raising goose bumps on his arms.

“Does this hurt?” Steve asks, hushed.

“No,” Danny replies, hoarse. Part of him is more than a little turned on by the restraint Steve’s showing in touching him, if he’s fair. He shifts so he can look Steve in the eye, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say? Jersey’s always gonna be home to me, but this place. This place here, it’s not so bad,” he says, reaching back to press his thumb to the two entwined flowers on his back – violet and hibiscus, vines surrounding the both. It creeps up on his shoulder, hidden from the front and covered by a shirt from the back.

It’s a tie to his home – both of them.

Steve swallows visibly and stares at Danny, eyes half-lidded. “Danny,” he says, and Danny’s been sleeping with Steve long enough to hear the desire in Steve’s voice. “I’m giving you ten seconds and if you’re not out of your pants, you’re gonna have to sew them back up.”

“You mean _you’re_ gonna sew ‘em back up, you freaky boy sco…”

Danny doesn’t even finish because Steve stays true to his word, pinning him to the bed and ripping off every last shred of his clothing.

So, yeah, Danny’s an idiot.

But at least he’s a well-fucked and a really well-loved one when it comes down to it.


End file.
